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2013.04.23 - A Bow in Central Park
Central Park. For differing reasons, the archer vigilantes liked to frequent this park. For the female Hawkeye, it was a personal mission. For the male Hawkeye, it was work. For Arsenal, it was both work -and- a means of finding out what was -so- personal about this park, although he'd been too busy lately to frequent the park the way he'd used to. Tonight, at least, the park was relatively quiet, which either meant that crime was taking a holiday, or people were getting wise to the frequency of vigilantes showing up in the Park. Nah, probably a holiday. Criminals were, after all, a stupid lot. Then again, freezing your tush out was no fun either, which was why Roy Harper was currently buying up hot chestnuts and a cup of coffee at a push-cart around the edge of the park... Now, there's a strange sight: A costumed vigilante buying a snack from a push-cart vendor. For her part, Olena isn't in any sort of vigilante disguise. Indeed, her clothing is entirely civilian as, hands shoved loosely into her pockets, she wanders the park's pathways, enjoying the early spring evening. She's not the same girl she was, weeks ago, hunted and skittish as she was then. Now, instead, she walks with head up and shoulders back, mien at once alert and confident, rather than sulky or sullen. The vigilante catches her eye, partly because of his obvious get up, and partly because of the weapon he carries. Her ears rise slightly and a brow quirks as she notes it. Her steps slow, and if it looks like she's checking him out... well, she's not. She's checking the bow out. (There's a difference.) The crossbow he carries only gets a cursory glance. It's the handbow she's more interested in. Coming away with a cup of coffee and the bag of roast chestnuts, the archer glances cursorily at the girl as he starts walking back towards the heart of the park, before slowing down as the look continue. Turning around to get a better look at the girl, Roy smiles. "Hi. Anything I can do for you?" he asks, taking a sip of his coffee as he waits for an answer. His eyes roams from face to the rest of her. Hmm, not afraid to stare. What that meant, he wasn't sure, yet. Olena shakes her head lightly. "No," she says, her Eastern European accent evident even in that single syllable. "I simply admire your bow." There's no innuendo there, whatsoever. It's a statement of fact. Her eyes flick to the crossbow and the archer's arrow symbol. "You like bows, I think." Still no innuendo, but a hint of humour, at least. That's something. Oh great. Not a Russian accent, but close enough that Roy tilts his head, to study her much more so. "Well yeah," Roy says, glancing down at the crossbow holstered to his leg, before executing a quick short bow, bringing his hand to his abdomen and leaning forward quickly, not quite the formal British bow, but close enough for Japanese. Grinning slighly at the pun, Roy offers a crooked half-smile, amused at something that might or might not be clear to Olena. "Since you seem to be interested in bows, you want a closer look?" Not -quite- innuendo, but it was out there, to see how she'd react. Olena considers the offer at face-value, her dark head canting slightly. "Da," she says presently. "I am always interested in a good bow." Yep. Still entirely matter-of-fact. Perhaps the girl simply doesn't grasp the subtleties of English, yet. She takes a step closer to the archer, slender hands coming out of her pockets as she does. Ahhh, yes, these Eastern Europeans. So humorless. "Da," Roy says, as he removes his bow from its moorings and offers it to Olena. Switching to Russian, Roy adds, "Just visiting from out of the city?" Olena's form is studied a bit more intensely, whether to assess her fitness... in more ways than one, at least for Roy Harper... and her reaction, at least, would tell him something about -her- personality. Surely she couldn't be -that- stereotypically Eastern European... Olena takes the offered weapon, running a slender hand over it. She balances it in her grip, using a loose Olympic-style hand -- which certainly should be recognizable as such to the man. His draw weight is no doubt somewhat heavier than her own, however, so she doesn't do much more than flex the string, using a three-fingered draw. She relaxes the string and sights along the limbs of the bow, before returning it to him with an open palm. "It's a nice bow," she says, also switching to Russian. She gives a small smile at his question and just goes with it. "Yes," she tells him. "Just visiting. It's a nice city, New York. I like the park." Lowering his shades just enough to give Olena a glimpse at his eyes, Roy smiles ever so briefly. "The park's not the best place to be after dark, unless," he says in Russian. "So you've had experiences with bows?" he says, as he takes the bow back, strumming the string lightly as he grasps the riser grip, but doesn't put it away. "A hobby?" "A hobby," Olena agrees, choosing not to advertise her Olympic past. Some things are best forgotten. She just happens to be highly dedicated to that 'hobby'. That's all. A beat. Her head cants. "You hunt this park?" It seems the appropriate word, 'hunt'. "I have not found it nearly so dangerous in the park as the streets can be." "A hobby for now, eh?" The last three words, if Olena were the suspicious sort, might at least warn her that Roy's not quite -believing- her, but it's dropped in favor of the 'hunt' topic. "I hunt in this park, yeah. And the streets as well," Roy grins. "Though I would say that -anything- could be dangerous if you're not careful." Well, at least the Russian girl wasn't a brand new yuppie or country girl, at least, if she could be relatively blase about city life. "Nothing for you to concern yourself with if it's a hobby." Since the man's speaking Russian, Olena can quite easily pick up on the subtleties of the language. She's as fluent in it as she is her native Ukrainian. She notes his skepticism, but doesn't remark on it. Any archer truly worth their salt would recognize her facility with the weapon; it's to be expected. "I'll leave the street hunting to you," she says with an easy smile, though there's a dark glitter in her eyes. She is telling the truth. She's not a random hunter of trouble on the dark and shrouded streets of the city. Her prey is very, very specific. Most days, random street thugs are perfectly safe from her quiver. It's the organized bastards involved in the mutant trafficking trade that need to watch their backs. Playing with the subtleties of language really wasn't Roy Harper's thing. And yet since he'd been working with differing government agencies for too long not to recognize it, Roy quirks an eyebrow at the glint in his eyes. "Good. So, what sort of hunting do you do, then? It's always fun hunting with bow and arrows... I was raised by the Navajo, so I learned a lot of tricks from them. How'd you learn?" Olena gives a mild shrug, now. "I don't do much hunting, here. In my homeland, I was more of a target archer." All true. "I preferred it to most of the team sports my physical education instructors wished me to pursue." No. Not much of a team player -- though that has more to do with how badly so many fast moving bodies used to overwhelm her as a kid. That's not so great a difficulty now. Roy Harper grins, then, before realizing that his coffee and chestnuts were getting cold. Putting the bow back away and then retrieving the food bag, Roy opens it, rests a chestnut between his teeth and trying to cool it while at the same time offering Olena some. Tucking the bag under his arm again so that he can hold the hot chestnut in one hand and drink coffee with the other, the archer vigilante nods. "Well, depends on what you're hunting, I suppose. Probably easiest to hunt targets that aren't shooting back," the vigilante smirks. Olena nods to that, raising a hand to decline the offered chestnuts. "It is," she agrees. And, since she's had experience with both, the response is fairly definite. But, it shouldn't be an unexpected response. Few people would consider a moving target easier than a stationary one, after all. Fewer still are cold-blooded enough to think killing a living thing is easy, too. And, for the record, Olena has never once thought killing a person is easy. Necessary, sometimes, and justifiable in such cases, but never easy. The response was far too casual, at least. Which meant likely she -had- experienced it at some point. Chewing the chestnut in a manner as which to buy him a bit of time to think ( an experience not wholly familiar to Roy ), the agent comments, "If you're interested in hunting, there's always at least one around this park. If you just want to do archery, well, there's a few places here and there. You looking for a range while you're in town?" Olena cants her head. "One what?" she asks, as to his reference to hunting. "Deer? I'm not interested in hunting human beings." Also true. As far as she's concerned, she hunts monsters. Thus, her smile is good natured and entirely guileless. "Are there good ranges around here?" Yes, that always interests her. "Archer," Roy notes. "I wouldn't worry about it. Though deer would be fun, I've done that every so often." Well, he didn't know what to make of this strange woman, but at least another person interested in archery... "Absolutely. If you don't mind bussing it a bit, there's..." He starts listing off a few, and then pauses, tilting his head. "Want to go to one with me and some others?" Might as well enlist Mia or Kate... the old man could go hang. Olena raises a brow at the invitation. She considers it for a moment. "Perhaps," she concedes. She's not a fan of busses, but they're better than trying to run all the way across town on foot. One of these days, she'll have to get herself wheels of her own. A motorcycle would be cool. She also considers the fine bow Magneto bought her. Perhaps it is not the weapon to take to an open range. "I do not a suitable bow here, however. Do they perhaps have rentals or loaners?" "Oh, they do, though I think I could just borrow a few. They're probably about right for you too," Roy notes, taking a swig of coffee hurriedly as it was getting colder faster. "You do seem like someone who's used a bow a helluva lot, though... what happened to yours, get stuck in customs?" Olena chuckles at that -- something of a dry sound. "I did not bring my bow, when I came," she says. "It was not..." she searches for the right word, even in Russian. "Convenient," she decides works. "You know how difficult air travel can be, these days. And, really, I hardly expected I would use it here." Or ever again, really. Fate is such a fickle thing. Now Roy smirks. "Yeah, when I travel, I usually have to have two sets, one for here, one for over there," the archer admits. "Unless you have special permits, but that's still a hassle." Rubbing his chin, Roy grins. "Tell ya what, if you really -want- to, I can get you set up at the range and we'll see what happens." Besides, how bad could this be? Olena gives him a light smile, giving a simple nod. "That could be fun," she concedes. The girl can't spend all her time as a broody, dark-minded assassin, after all. Nor does she intend to. Besides, it can't hurt to get to know the vigilante better. Not if she's careful to keep her other activities from crossing his path. Now Roy grins. "Good." What the hell, at least it would help Roy to meet someone who -wasn't- a dark-minded mercenary. Just a plain simple fun archery get-together with like-minded people. And if she wasn't... well then, as Domino would put it, he was completely and utterly jinxed. Popping another chestnut into his mouth, Roy fishes out his personal phone, and then works on exchanging contact info. "By the way... name's Harper. Roy Harper," he notes, grinning. "Oksana," Olena says with a smile, giving her current alias, accepting his info and giving her own in return. She tends to use a burner phone, not so much because she's a dark-minded mercenary like Domino, but because it's a cheap and easy way to stay off-the-grid. It's also not something that wouldn't at all be out of place for a vacationer to use -- a non-contract, pay-as-you-go phone that can be picked up at any convenience store, used while on holiday and discarded afterward when it no longer matters. "It is nice to meet you, Roy Harper." "Nice to meet you too, Oksana," Roy grins. Like that figure skater, yeah, he'd seen her here and there when younger. Been a while though, and he never did watch much Olympics, being too busy on the go. "Give me a call and I'll see if Mia or others are up to it, we can make an outing of it," Roy grins. Not a club, just a gathering. Clubs were for hobbies. This was... fun. Again, Olena nods, but she chuckles. "Perhaps you should call me, yes? Once you have spoken with them and made arrangements." It simply makes more sense to her. "My schedule is likely more flexible, neh?" As a vacationer's would be, of course. "I will look forward to it." Because, yes. Shooting just for fun would be just that... Fun. "Yeah, likely," Roy grins. "I'll be seeing you," he says, as he inclines his head, turning to walk off. Right, calling her was more sensible, especially considering his workload. And Mia probably would appreciate it. Kate as well. The old man could go hang, though. Category:Log